The Eternally Silent Bloom
by Hey Jude Just What you sing
Summary: What if Erik Lensherr had had a companion in the Nazi Death Camp?  What if a little mute mutant girl named Tziporah became his little sister, and endured the same torture from Schmidt as he did?  This is that story. My first story! Read and Review!
1. Prolog:  How They Came To Be

**A/N: **

**Hey! I'm Jude. This is my first story on FanFiction. My twin sister Astraea's Judgement died in April, and I've been going through bouts of depression, so at best, my posting will be sporadic. I also have dyslexia, so bear with me on the grammatical and spelling mistikes. Spell checker is my one true love…**

**It is not my intention to make light of the events of the Holocaust, and if I offend anyone in any way, feel free to bring it to my attention, and I shall attempt to correct my blunder.**

**Disclaimer: I do not claim to own X-men, no matter how much I'd wish to… which is almost as much as I wish Cold Play would give me a private concert.**

Prolog: Auschwitz-Birkenau, 1941.

Tziporah Setz was scared. The cart she was in was crowded beyond belief, filled to the brim with nervous people. They were told that they were being taken to a camp called Auschwitz, where they would live for an unidentified amount of time. Tziporah was young, only six, and did not understand why her papa and her were forced to leave their home in Berlin. She did not understand that as she looked tearfully up at her father, it might be the last time she saw him alive.

"All out!" shouted a voice in German.

As she left the cart, Tziporah saw a sign that read: Arbeit Macht Frei. Work will make you free.

They were divided in two; men to one side and women to the other. They were degraded and humiliated, branded like cattle.

407365

Her name was stripped from her, replaced with a number. She was no longer Tziporah Setz in the eyes of her captors. She was 407365. Nothing more, nothing less.

There was a smell coming from a building near the showers that was sickening, a burning meat type scent that emitted from some smoke stacks. Tziporah was terrified when she was told she would have to take a shower in the smelly building.

"Tziporah! Tziporah! Tziporah! Run! They are going to kill you! Tziporah! Tzi-"

She turned in time to see her Papa, who had been screaming and crying for her to be killed by an SS officer.

Tziporah trembled in shock, tears coursing down her cheeks in silent disbelief. And then she screamed.

Plants came alive, attacking the soldiers who tried to grab her. Trees sprung from the ground, strangling soldiers as they came, and grass and weeds tied them down to the ground. The earth began creaking and shifting around her, causing terror and panic among the Nazi's.

From behind a window, a man with glasses and a mustache smiled pleasantly as he watched the destruction below. His happiness ended when a soldier brought up his gun, and shot the little girl through her heart.

The girl fell to the ground, blood pooling around her. The earth stopped moving and the plants stopped growing at the moment of the little girl's death. Dr. Schmidt cursed and raged, until he noticed something extraordinary. The little girl was moving.

Tziporah felt wrong. All she remembered was rage, and the feeling of a terrible power coursing through her when a starburst of pain radiated through her body and everything went black. She looked down at her blood colored chest, lifting her shirt to see what was underneath. A puckered scar rested directly on her heart.

'What was she?' thought Tziporah terrified, 'what was happening?'

A handsome man crouched before her, smiling disarmingly as he took her hand and ruffled her shorn hair.

"Hello, my child. I am Dr. Schmidt. What is your name?"

"Tziporah… Setz." She stuttered through hiccups and tears.

"Well, Tziporah, you and I are going to have some fun, aren't we?"

A feeling of dark foreboding ran through the small girl as she saw Schmidt's smile.

"So much fun indeed," he said, chuckling.

1944: Auschwitz-Birkenau

Erik Lensherr was twelve when he was brought before Dr. Schmidt, after having made the metal gates of the camp bend as he was separated from his family. He was twelve when he was forced to either make a coin move, or watch his mother die. He was twelve when he failed, and he was twelve when he killed the two soldiers that had held his mother still before she was murdered by the Doctor.

Erik was twelve when he met a nine year old girl, covered in scars, and unable to talk due to the removal of her voice box. He almost exploded when the same, emaciated, tortured girl hugged him, as if to tell him that it would be all right. His hatred for the doctor grew when he learned that her name was Tziporah Setz, and she had been six when the doctor had started experimenting on her due to her unkillable (A/N:_ I know unkillable isn't a word but whatever :P_) nature.

When he cried that first night in his cell, she tugged on his striped sleeve and beckoned him to watch. Wiping away his tears he watched in amazement as a flower grew from a small patch of dirt in her cell. She smiled at him and gave him the flower, motioning for him to smell it.

It smelled like home, and all things good in the world, it took him away from his plastic cell and into the past where Auschwitz was only a nightmare that his Mama would sooth away with a kiss.

It was then that Erik Lensherr vowed to get vengeance for both him and this sweet little girl, even if it was the last thing he would ever do.

Auschwitz-Birkenau: January 18, 1945:

Something was happening, thought Erik, listlessly, as he snuggled closer to Tziporah. The Nazi's were abandoning the camp, and forcing all of those able to move on a death march. Erik did not even contemplate such an idea as to leave. He could barely move, and he feared that Zippy's unkillability was at its end. He could feel every bone in her body, and could see all the scars that peeked out from under her torn and shoddy clothes.

Erik was terrified at the thought of Tziporah dying, of leaving him alone in this hell. She was his life line, his only reason to survive. Schmidt had left earlier in the morning along with the SS officers that lead the death march. It was only him and Zippy left in their torture chamber.

"Hold on, Zippy, just a little longer!" he whispered before he broke into a coughing fit.

Auschwitz-Birkenau: January 27, 1945:

Erik knew that he could not last much longer. He had forced himself to the little hole in the wall of their cell to gather snow for them to drink, but he could not force himself to move any longer.

It was over for him and Zippy.

He closed his eyes, breathing in the scent of the eternal flower Zippy had made him when he first arrived. It was wilting badly, showing the state its creator was in. Whenever Tziporah was killed during Schmidt's experiments, the flower would die, but when she came back to life, it would come alive again.

It was almost dead. Permanently.

"I…love…you…big…brother…"

"I…love you…too, Zippy."

And suddenly the quiet was shattered. The sound of Russian voices was heard throughout the camp, causing all in it to still with that lost emotion called hope.

Hours later, a Russian commander asked what was in that small building over by the end of the row of buildings. A prisoner spoke, with tears in his eyes.

"It is a torture house for two little children. A little girl and a little boy! Their screams shattered the nights, their voices crying out for help!" the man spoke, his weak frame shaking from the memories. "One, the little girl, has been here for four years! Four years! And then the little boy… just last year! They tore him from his family and into that horrible building!"

The Russian commander swallowed; pale at the explanation.

He yelled for some soldiers to follow him into the building. They were not prepared for what was in there. An office room was adjacent to a torture chamber. Gleaming metal saws and knifes shined ominously in the light, blood covered the table in the middle of the room, and on the floor. A file cabinet stood open and empty in the corner.

"My God!" was heard unanimously throughout the room. Only Mengele could compare to this.

The commander hesitantly noticed a door that went from the torture chamber to a connecting room. He opened, scared of what he would find.

A heartbreaking sight was before him. Two little children lay huddled together, skeletally thin and covered in scars and fresh cuts. He knelt down next to them, and cried for those poor, poor children.

As he cried, he noticed the faintest rise and fall of their chests. They were still alive! He ordered his men, some of whom had silent tears running from their eyes to get the children to help. He picked up the smallest one, terrified at how light she was. He spoke to her as he cradled her in his arms, carrying her out of that horrid building. He almost smiled as he felt the little girl clutch tightly to his jacket, but it came out as a grimace instead.

He saw so many horrors on that day, but the children, all of them, stuck with him the most.

It was touch and go, but slowly and surely, the two children gained weight and recovered; physically at least.

Mentally, poor little Tziporah Setz and Erik Lensherr would never be the same.

One would go down a path of darkness, his only light a little girl who clung to his hand, while the other would follow her brother to hell and back.

Soooooo…. I may have been slightly depressed when I thought of this, but it has been bugging me ever since that little annoying plot bunny started jumping around in my head.

Please read and review, and please, if you see anything I could improve upon, please critique!

But take note, all ye flamers: GTHAGAL… Go To Hell And Get A Life.

3

Jude


	2. Chapter One:  How they Met

**Hey! I decided to update again! Thanks to those of you who have reviewed and to those of you who put me on story alerts… Anyway… on with the story!**

**Disclaimer: I do not in any way or form own anyone but Tziporah Setz.**

**:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D**

FRANCE: 1962:

Erik Lensherr lay on a hotel bed in only his robe, twirling a Nazi coin through his fingers, the metal never touching his skin. Before him on the wall was a collage of pictures. A crudely drawn man commanded his attention. Dr. Schmidt. The demon of his child hood: the man responsible for his and his little sisters suffering.

A vine made its way up the bed, encircling his wrist and bringing to his attention to his only family left in the world. As she stepped into the light, the scars on Tziporah Setz-Lensherr were in vast relief. His fist clenched at the memory of a sweet innocent little girl being taken into a sterile room, and coming back to him in tears of pain and humiliation.

Zippy sat down on the bed next to him, leaning into his side with an inaudible sigh. One of his arms wrapped around her shoulders, and the other started running through her fire colored and vine filled hair.

"I know where we need to go." He whispered as Zippy tilted her head questioningly at him.

"We're so close to vengeance Zippy, so close!"

A smile reached the young woman's lips as she hugged him.

Ever since their liberation, Erik and Zippy had not been apart from each other for more than a few hours. Zippy was always there as Erik's silent pillar of support, holding his hand and using her powers to gather information. She would do anything for Erik, and he would do anything for her. Erik was over-protective to the max, which explained why a lot of men who as much as looked at his precious little sister were found later castrated.

:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D

Erik's lips curled into a cruel smirk as he took a bar of Nazi gold and placed it on the manager's desk. As Erik spoke to the man, Tziporah noticed the man's hand inching its way to the button on his desk.

The man shrieked as vines appeared from nowhere, binding him to his desk.

"Thank you, Zippy." Said Erik with a fond smile, which she returned.

"Now then, where is Schmidt?"

"I do not know! I do not!"

"That's too bad…" and suddenly, the man's filling was being extracted painfully from his mouth, courtesy of Erik.

"Argentina! Schmidt is in Argentina!" screamed the man, but it was too late and his filling was gone.

"Thank you for your assistance!" said Erik cheerily as Tziporah smiled benignly at him.

:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D

ARGENTINA: 1962:

Inside a chateau in Argentina, Erik and Tziporah ordered beer, watching two men from the corner of their eyes.

"German beer?" questioned Erik as the bar tender placed the drinks down.

"Of course, it is the best!"

"I am from Germany, and so is my dear sister!" cried Erik in mock enthusiasm.

Tziporah could practically see the cogs in the men's minds whirling. Both Erik and she looked old enough to have had parents in the war.

"Really? So are we! I myself was a pig-farmer!" said one with a laugh, as though thinking of some great joke.

"I was a tailor there!" said the other man, laughing as well, "What were your parent's names?"

"They didn't have names. They were taken from the by pig-farmers and tailors!" said Erik, exposing his arm. Zippy laid her arm out on the table, her tattooed number surrounded be jagged scars.

All three men (the bartender included) got the message. Erik summoned the gun that the bartender had tried to pull on them, and shot the man. Zippy smiled sweetly as roots and vines surged up from the floor and wrapped around the remaining to men.

"Where is Schmidt!"

"Miami! On his boat! Please don't kill us!" screamed one man, pissing his pants in the process.

"I won't kill you," said Erik gently, "but you didn't ask her." He motioned towards Zippy who was watching the proceedings with avid interest. One sharp nod later from Erik, and the two Nazis were strangled and pulled apart by the plants that had held them.

"Miami it is then, my dear sister."

The two walked out, hands held together; seemingly oblivious to the carnage they left behind.

:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D

MIAMI: 1962:

Barely visible, two figures dressed in wetsuits crept through dark waters. They quietly climbed aboard a ship, anticipation thrumming through their bodies.

The silence was broken by Erik's voice.

"Hello, Herr Doctor."

A man who looked barely in his thirties looked up, shock coating his features before a blinding smile appeared.

"Little Erik Lensherr! My how you've grown! And little Tziporah, to!"

Erik ran blindly towards the object of his hatred, only to be stopped by a horrible sound filling his head.

"Now, now, none of that!" said Schmidt, or Sebastian Shaw, as he was now called, before he knocked both Erik and Tziporah off of the boat.

:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:DD::DD:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D

Onboard a CIA boat, Professor Charles Xavier's eyes widened as heavy metal chains and some type of plant rose from the water and began destroying the boat Sebastian Shaw occupied. Searching out with his mind, Charles found two mutants in the water and four mutants in the boat. The ones in the water were the ones who were causing the fantastical show before him, while the ones in the boat were running away into a submarine.

Even with the combined efforts of the two mutants in the water, the submarine containing Shaw and his associates could not be stopped. The two in the water would not give up, though, and he feared that they would drown themselves before admitting defeat.

Without a second thought, Charles dove into the water and swam to the first person he sensed. It was a man, whom, he discovered, was named Erik Lensherr. The other mutant was a woman named Tziporah Setz-Lensherr, the adopted sibling of the man he was latched onto.

_Clear your mind, my friend! You cannot stop Shaw's submarine, do not die for Nothing!_ Shouted Charles into the man's mind, _Do not make your sister drown because of your own stubbornness!_

At that, Charles felt the man acquiesce and grab his sisters hand, dragging her to the surface with them.

Once on board the boat, the three of them sat gasping for air.

"Charles Xavier: Telepath. Nice to meet you." Said Charles when he had finally managed to get his breath back.

"Erik Lensherr: Able to control all metal. You as well." Said Erik.

Tziporah leaned against her brother and held out her hand for Charles to shake, elbowing Erik to introduce her.

"And, of course, my sister, Tziporah, who cannot speak. She can control all earth related things, I guess."

Three mutants sat together, looking for all the world as drowned rats, and laughed.

:DD:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D::D:D:D:D::D:D:D:D::DD::D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D

**Hope you liked it. I wasn't too sure on some of the dialog, but I hope that I got the point across.**

**Please, please, please, read and review!**

**Jude.**


	3. Chapter Two: Scream

**Hey! Thanks to everyone who read/reviewed/favorite my story. It was brought to my attention that Tziporah seemed like an empty character, so hopefully this chapter will 'fill her up'.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own X-men, only Tziporah Setz-Lensherr.**

**Without further ado, I present chapter two:**

**:D:D:D:D:D:D::D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D::D::D:D:D:D:D:D::D:D:D:D::D::D:D:D:D:**

Chapter Two: Scream, shout, and sing.

Sometimes Tziporah just wanted to scream. She wanted to be heard, she wanted to be seen. Twenty-two years after her voice was taken away, Tziporah just wanted to shout out her hatred for the man who became her constant nightmare for five long years.

But she couldn't. So she didn't.

There would be no point; it would only show to remind her that she would be eternally silent. And it would be eternal. She seemed to have stopped aging by the time she was twenty. Even though all of the scars she had gained throughout her life remained as a tribute to her suffering, she could not die. Again and again in that torture chamber at the camp she had died. But she always came back, healed to the point where she could live.

The scars that loitered on her body gave proof to that.

A puckered circle, directly above her heart; a silver band of tissue encircling her neck, the list went on and on.

She wanted to dance and sing, to talk and to whisper, to scream and shout…but any opportunity of that happening was taken away by one man.

And so she buried herself deep within her mind, opening up only to her big brother, Erik. But even he, who had survived the camp with her, did not understand what she had been through fully. He, who had been in Auschwitz only a year before its liberation, did not completely know what had been done to her in the years leading up to his stay with Dr. Schmidt.

Tziporah hid behind a façade of benevolent smiles, while inside her feelings roiled and bubbled beneath the surface. She knew she was capable of great terror, but she also knew that she could create an Eden, if given a chance.

During the experiments that had been performed on her, she had retreated deep within her mind, and created a place of beauty and peace. The sky shone bright with a million stars forming never before seen constellations, and a luminous moon. Fireflies flew throughout her dream world, shedding light to what she had created. A breeze ran through the air, bringing with it the smells of a garden, filled to the brim with all types of flowers imaginable. A waterfall would come crashing down into a river, and trees would line the river bed, providing shelter for her terrified psyche to sleep under. An ocean surrounded her land, and giant waves would crash down on the shores; protecting it from outsiders, because deep in the middle of her land was a flower that represented who she was. It was large and white with tips of all imaginable colors. During the experiments, it was always wilting and dying, but afterwards, when she had been saved, it had grown healthy and luminous, a bright light in the midst of the eternal night.

So many years ago, when a terrified boy had appeared in the cell with her, she had made a flower grow. She had taken the flower from her mind, and entrusted it to someone who would become her beloved brother.

Erik was the only reason besides vengeance against Schmidt, or Shaw, or whatever the hell that evil man now called himself that kept her from retreating into her Eden permanently. Because in her Eden, she could talk, she could sing, she could scream, she could shout, and she could be free.

Without Erik, she would have become a shell.

So she didn't care if it seemed childish that she wanted to hold his hand, because he was all that she had, and she would never let him go.

When people looked at her they saw a young woman with hair like fire, and eyes like leaves. They saw her scars, and tsked, shaking their heads and saying that she could have been beautiful. When Erik looked at looked at her, he saw only Tziporah, not the image she presented. He saw a girl who embodied the earth, with vines running wild through her hair, and a world of pain carved into her skin.

And she was the embodiment of the earth to him. She was beautiful, wild, free, and untamable. She was scarred from the actions of man, and she was resilient to what was done to her. She was dangerous and loving, she was kind and forgiving, as well as harsh and deaf to the pleas of those she killed. She was herself, and proud of what she was. She did not ask forgiveness for her actions, because she did not need forgiveness.

Tziporah needed vengeance against the man who had made her this way.

Because before she became all of those things, she had been Zorah, an innocent little girl from Berlin who had loved her Papa with all of her heart, and had been a stranger to prejudice, pain, and suffering. And Tziporah missed that little girl. She missed what little Zorah could have become, had she not been callously murdered by the actions of the soldier who killed her Papa, and a man named Schmidt.

So even when she wanted to scream at the top of her lungs, she didn't; she held it in, hidden behind an empty, smiling façade because it was better than the alternative of breaking down and crying because of what was taken from her.

407365

That accursed number represented so much to her: pain, suffering, and a promise of retribution.

It was why she would happily tear apart any who stood in the way of what she desired most. She would feel no remorse for her actions, because that was who she had been made into. She was what she was, and she would ask no forgiveness for that fact, but that did not mean that she didn't wish that she could have been something better than what she had been forced to become.

And now, staring into the blue eyes of this man, Charles Xavier, she could only laugh (silently) at how naïve he was. Already Erik was projecting his distrust of the man before them through the stiffening of his body, and a tightening grip on her hand. She allowed a vine travel down her arm and wrap itself around their hands, if only to reassure him that she was there, and could handle herself, should the need come.

Because she was the embodiment of earth in most ways, and ever changing was one character which she embodied perfectly. She would always be ready at a moment notice to kill and destroy, to break free of any bonds that held them. Tziporah could tell from years of practice reading him, but Erik was scared and elated at the same time to have finally found someone who was like them: a mutant. He didn't want to trust the man before them, but Tziporah could almost feel the honest intentions that were betrayed by those blue, blue eyes.

Yet again, Tziporah wanted to scream. She wanted to take her life off of mute, and ask so many questions that needed answering, and that maybe, just maybe, this man before her could answer.

_Any questions you need answered, I shall try my best._ Inside of her mind, a voice, Xavier's perhaps, echoed.

Soaking wet and freezing, all Tziporah could do was laugh silently as this earnest man before her spoke.

Because finally (finally!), her voice could be heard; and she didn't trust anyone besides Erik with her thoughts. She had gotten her wish, and she almost wished she hadn't. Because for the first time in a long time, she was scared; she was scared that someone would find her world, and pollute it with their presence, thus destroying the one thing that had kept her sanity intact throughout all those years of pain and humiliation.

For the first time in twenty two years, Tziporah was scared. She didn't know what to do. Should she be ecstatic that she could be heard, or terrified that this telepath before her could destroy her Eden? She didn't know what to feel, so she settled with the second best option.

She laughed hysterically at her own predicament.

Be careful what you wish for, indeed.

:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D

**Tell me what you think, and I hope that this chapter added more dimension to Zippy.**

**Read Review Read Review…..please.**

**Jude**

**P.S. I made Zippy immortal for a purpose.**


	4. Chapter Three:  Annoying and infuriating

**I didn't get one review for my last chapter… it's annoying. Onto other news, I have recently started taking abilify along with anti-depressants', and I must say that it works wonders…**

**I am pleading with you, my readers, to please review my story. No matter the favorites or story alerts, reviews are what motivate me the most.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own X-men, or any of the characters except for Tziporah Setz.**

**Without further ado….**

**The Starting Point**

**(/) (/) **

The building was annoyingly large. That was the fact that stuck out the most to Tziporah. As soon as she'd entered, she had been cataloging all possible escape routes.

Just in case.

She knew that Erik was doing it to, but it had become such an ingrained action that she thought nothing of it. Along with being annoyingly large, the building was also devoid of most organic matter. It made Zippy feel as though she was walking through a void, cut off from reality.

She didn't like it here. She didn't trust these men in black, who spoke with a condescending air barely paying attention to the words Moira spouted. They were derisive to the mere suggestion that there were other, more evolved people in the world; because in their minds, they were the crème of the crop, and none could be better than them.

It was amusing, really, when Charles and Raven showed them that they were wrong. For some added fun, Tziporah decided to fill the void. As plants and trees sprouted from cement walls, the air was filled with girlish shrieks.

The only man who did not seem terrified, in fact looked extremely happy. What was wrong with him, thought Zippy, eyeing the man who was smiling impossibly wide, did he have some sort of mental defect that made it so he did not feel terror? All humans feared what they did not understand, and what they did not understand was often eradicated; so why did this insignificant man not tremble at something so different from himself?

Her musings were interrupted when the man began to talk, unwittingly answering her questions. He was feeling justified… because he was right? When he revealed to Charles and Erik of a secret base he had created that they could use, Tziporah felt disbelief coursing through her. Did he not understand? Anyone of the mutants at this table could kill him at any time! Raven could change herself into some one so innocent and pure, and assassinate him without him knowing any better; Charles could turn his brain to mush, killing him in the process; Erik could command any metal around them to kill him, and she herself could turn him into fertilizer.

It was infuriating, his disregard for the danger that mutants could produce. It was infuriating that he accepted the fact that there were some people on this earth who were better than him, so calmly and excitedly. Did he not understand the prejudice that being different produced? He was so excited about being right, of being able to rub it in his co-workers faces, that he did not understand the risk that the four mutants in the room were taking, just by admitting that they were in fact, different.

Erik, sensing her anger squeezed her hand as if to placate her.

Stupid, mundane man…

(/) (/)

Not only was the man stupid and infuriating, he was chatty and annoying as well! As he introduced them to his scientist, a genius named Hank McCoy; Tziporah couldn't help but roll her eyes at the exuberant man. And when Charles ousted the poor boy-doctor as a mutant, the look on the man's face was wonderful; shocked indignation was an amusing thing to see on the flabby man's face.

As Raven and Hank wandered off together, Tziporah was shown her new room. Deciding that the white walls, white carpet, and white furniture was to boring, she made her room into a veritable garden. The walls were covered in vines, trees and foliage, while the ground was covered in grass, moss and flowers. Where once stood sturdy furnishings, now stood their wooden equivalents; for the final touch, her bed was a cocoon of moss and other soft plants.

With a soft smile, she left the room to find Erik. Upon finding him, she signed (1) to him that she was going to sleep for a few days. Her power could be very draining, so every few months she would go into a vegetative state encased in plants, at which time, she would replenish her energy from the plants. Because of her alternate means of respite, she was unable to sleep normally.

He gave her a somewhat strained smile, and quickly signed to her that he did not mean for them to stay any longer in this facility.

Tziporah frowned slightly, but nodded in acquiescence. She was exhausted, and she really, really didn't want to have to find a new place where she could recharge, but she could never say no to her brother.

(/) (/)

Later that night when they were leaving, Charles came out from the shadows. Tziporah tried to focus on what they were saying, but her vision and hearing was fading in and out. She tried gripping on to Erik's arm, but she lost her grip and fell, her last conscious moment was of Erik's terrified visage.

(/) (/)

Erik and Zippy learned sign language so they could communicate with each other.

So, kinda a cliff hanger, but what evs. I'm not really satisfied with this chapter, but I felt that no matter how many times I tried to write it, this was the best version. I'm also feeling kinda light headed as I'm writing this.

Please review.

Flamers can go fuck themselves.

Peace

Jude


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